Vacation Down Under
by TheKingofAnimeandManga
Summary: Arthur spends some time in Australia and runs into a very fine hunk of man! ONE-SHOT!


**OK ENGLAND X AUSTRALIA IS SO HOT! AND IT'S SO UNDERUSED!**

How I love Australia! The cities, the beaches, the wildlife, and especially the men. The Land Down Under produced the hottest guys on the planet no doubt. And I was staying here for a whole week, enjoying the sights, museums, restaurants and nightlife. You see, in jolly old England, we often have to bundle up but in Australia it's like warm weather all the time! No need for a sweater. I was staying in a 4 star hotel in Sydney (thanks to my father being a well-funded banker). I was on break from Oxford and I must say its nice to explore the world. I was just about to go out when I saw a guy in the room across the hall.

He's one of those guys that practically seems to reach into your chest and squeeze your heart when they grin, with a powerful jawline, green eyes, short brown hair with two strands of hair sticking out., green smiling eyes, and tan skin. Also that's noticeable is a bandage on his nose. But it's impossible to keep my eyes from following the sloping lines of his broad neck down to his massively pumped up body—great slabs of pecs, biceps riddled with veins bulging out below the stretched arms of his T-shirt, which also clings tight enough to his abs to let me see every—

"My eyes are up here, mate." he said in that sexy Australian accent.

"Huh?" Oh bloody hell, he totally caught that. My face instantly starts burning up. "Right, sorry. Sorry. I was staring, mate. I admit it. That was totally rude of me. I've never seen—I mean, your body's—"

He chuckles, and I'm relieved to see he's not at all offended. "I'll take it as a compliment, reckon" he says. "When you spend as much time as I do in the gym, mate you expect some stares." And thankfully that's an opening to get back to the comfort of my spiel with the whole "Let me tell you about the hours for the exercise room" thing, feeling the blood thud through my ears and my heart pound. I manage to get out everything I need to say, stumbling when I reach the usual line about always being available if he needs to talk. That makes me feel like a real twit; as if he'd come to the guy who was ogling him for advice.

"Um your name?" I asked him.

"Well since we've been talking this long it'd be helpful for you to know. I'm Jett Rivers. I come straight from Brisbane cause I wanna explore Sydney. What about you, mate?"

"Arthur Kirkland. I'm on break from England." I told him. God I just can't stop licking my lips to this guy!

"Ahh jolly old England, I see. Well that's ace! Hey I'm bout to go catch some waves, wanna get some and maybe have some shrimp on the barbie?" he asked.

"Maybe next time, old chap." I said.

"Ripper! Well see ya, mate! Hooroo!" he said as he left. I got a chance to view that damn fine ass!

Over the next few days I couldn't help bumping into him occasionally, being across the hall. Having embarrassed myself so much, though, I quickly rush past with just a quick greeting. Maybe I'm coming across as cold, but I think it's necessary to overcorrect. I crossed a line the first time I talked with him, so I'd better step well back. God why are Australian men so hot but so unreachable?

On my next to last day in Sydney I'm returning pretty late in the evening. I've got my key in the lock when I hear Jett's door open behind me and the friendly rumble of his voice: "Hey, you're back, mate!" He actually sounds HAPPY about it. I know he's just being friendly like usual, but it makes my heart start throbbing uncomfortably at once. To hear that man sound happy to see ME. And it only gets worse when he continues, "You said we could chat sometime, right? I was just sitting here and I thought..."

"O-Of course!" I manage to blurt out, before accidentally re-locking my door, unlocking it again, trying to pull it open even though I've been living here for HOW long, and then finally pushing my way inside. Soon I'm in a chair across from Jett where he's practically crushing my couch. I can't help noticing his dark blue T-shirt shows off the massive bulges of his muscular body to perfection, and his sweatpants stretch across his broad thighs.

"I just wanted to make sure everything was ace, mate" he starts off, and my stomach gives a sickening drop. "I've noticed you kind of rush away when I see you—but maybe you're just busy? I wanted to make sure it wasn't me, anyways."

"No! No, you did nothing wrong!" I rush to tell him, utterly mortified that I've let my own issues make him feel bad.

"Ripper! That's a relief!" he says, rubbing one hand self-consciously up the bristly hair on the back of his head. The underside of his herculean arm flares widely. "It's just, sometimes people are pretty intimidated by me, but they shouldn't be. If they just got a chance to talk with me, find out why I look the way I do..."

He seems kind of embarrassed, so I rush to assure him, "I'd love to talk with you about whatever you want. Anything that's bothering you. I'd be happy to get to know you. I mean," quickly rushing to cover up the fact that I almost said too much, "why don't you tell me? What you were talking about. Uh, why you look the way you do."

"You mean that?" He grins, making my stomach ache. But I can be professional and remember my role and the fact that it's impossible for anything to happen between us anyways. He continues, "So it started in secondary school. There were all these furphys, snide comments about me, saying I was gay. I mean, when I was too young to even know who I was into. It's just fucked up, you know? People making comments about you 'cause they think you're gay, when you don't even know if you are. I had this dumb thought, if I start working out, nobody'll think that. Nobody'd think a Bloke with muscle's queer. I was young at the time, okay. That's just how I saw it. And the thing is, it worked for the most part. The way people think is pretty shitty sometimes, hey? But anyways, it was addicting. I liked working out, I liked feeling strong and confident and not feeling intimidated anymore.

"I escaped the furphys and insults, but the really screwed up thing was that I was still just kind of running away. From the things they'd been saying about me, I mean. And to be honest, I was starting to wonder too. You probably won't believe this, but I didn't have the hots for anyone till I got into college. I mean, there were signs, but I saw my friends get obsessed over girls and I never felt that way about anyone—male or female. There were girls that approached me, but I always found some excuse, so they eventually stopped bothering. The old rumours were probably still there, but nobody had the guts to talk about it to my face."

"But since then, you've—I mean, you understand yourself better now, right? What you want."

"Oh, I know what I want now. At least, I dated a couple of girls after starting college at the University of Brisbane and I thought I knew what I wanted. Until there was this... But you don't want to hear about that. It's pretty graphic. I shouldn't tell you that."

I'm no psychiatrist, but I think the operative word there is "shouldn't." Implying that he wouldn't mind talking about it, but he's afraid it's inappropriate. "Seriously, you can tell me anything, mate"

He grins nervously, glancing away. "Look, I'm talking real fucking triple-X stuff here, okay? I can't just talk about it with anyone. ...I mean, I'd kind of like to 'cause it's been bothering me, but it's not appropriate. It'd probably gross you out."

I'm really curious now, but my main concern is that I can see the nervousness and the desire to talk in him. I rush to reassure him. "You aren't going to talk about anything I haven't heard before. You definitely won't gross me out. So come on, if it's really bothering you that much, you'd better just get it over with and tell me."

"Hmm, well..." he makes eye contact with me and he sees that I'm being serious, so he relents. "Alright. But feel free to stop me anytime. It's like this. I was at this club one day, and there was this guy..." My heart leaps into my throat and I almost choke, but luckily I think I manage to prevent him from noticing. "I don't know who he was, but there was this instant tug between us. I hadn't felt that with a guy before. I mean, I'd jerked off with a buddy but that was about it. It was a sort of take-it-or-leave-it thing. But this... fuck, I was shocked by how strong it was. I mean, I got hard just making eye contact with him. And he was clearly into me too. After less than a minute I've got him feeling my chest, my arms—I can tell he's one of those guys that're totally into my body. And I'm feeling him up too and—fuck, we both can't stand it anymore—"

He's starting to get into the story, almost like he isn't even aware of me. "So I take him into the loo, lock us in a stall and he unbuttons my shirt, gets down on his knees, undoes my zipper, takes out my 8 inch cock. You know the drill. I'm hard and leaking all over the place and he's on his knees with his lips wrapped around my dick, sucking so his cheeks are goin' hollow, lookin' up at me to see how I react, feeling my abs and reaching around to grab my ass while I face-fuck him. It feels fucking amazing and—"

He pauses. "Sorry, this is going too far, right? I shouldn't be talking about this with you. I knew it'd gross you out."

I clear my throat awkwardly, barely able to breathe in the midst of a dilemma. It's true that it's inappropriate for him to talk about this sort of thing with me, but guys talk about this stuff all the time anyways with their friends, right? So I say, "It's nothing I haven't heard before. P-please, continue. Speak however you want. I'm totally comfortable with it." To be honest, though, I'm starting to sweat and I can't help picturing this gorgeous Aussie muscleman with his shirt open, cock out, thrusting his hips as he gets sucked off by another hot stud. This is getting bad. I can feel my dick getting warm in my boxers, thickening and rising between my legs. It's about to start bulging obscenely right in front of him if I can't get things under control.

"Okay, cool. So I'm well on the way to bustin' my nut when he reaches down and takes out the biggest fucking cock I've ever seen. Just yanks this fucking python out of his pants and starts jerking it off. And I don't know what came over me. I hadn't felt like this before, but I had this intense need to taste him in my mouth. And just thinking about it, the fact that I was so horny that I even wanted to suck this guy's cock, almost drove me over the edge. There was no way I wanted to cum yet, though, because I knew that feeling would go away. I wouldn't want to do it anymore. I'd miss my chance—and who knows when I'd see a cock like that again."

I'm getting a raging hard-on here so I have no choice but to cross my legs. My cock rises to the left, poking up above my thigh, pressed against the thin material of my nice new slacks. But at least my crossed leg's in front of it, blocking his view of my rising bulge. The move must've been a little too conspicuous, though, because his eyes drop straight down to my crotch. Then: "I'm making you hard, aren't I?"

"W-What?" Bloody hell! "No. N-no, I—"

"'Cause it's totally cool. I mean, I'm getting hard too just thinking about it." And he openly adjusts himself right in front of me, casually shifting his cock in his sweatpants so it's pointing up to the left against his hip. I can see the line of his shaft swelling against the fabric, and it's clear he isn't wearing anything under those pants. There's definitely no way I can get rid of my hard-on with that sight in front of me. "We still good? Want me to keep going?

"So anyways," he continues with a grin after my stunned nod, his rumbling voice completely nonchalant, "I pull out and tell him to stand up. You should've seen the look on his face. And now suddenly I'm on my knees with a faceful of cock, nose full of his smell, watching him leak, and I wrap my hands around him and he's so hot and hard and massive and I just want to pump my fist up and down that cock, rub his tip over my lips—and that's exactly what I do. I suck that cock into my mouth and taste him on my tongue, that meaty hard hot feeling, and he's sliding forward to the back of my mouth, sliding back and forth and groaning, and I'm bobbing my head, licking and sucking and wanting more and—

"Then he started groaning and told me to get ready 'cause he was gonna cum and I didn't think much of it but then fuck, he started literally PISSING cum down my throat, filled my fucking mouth. I was choking on it until he pulled out and started spraying all over my face and it was dripping onto my chest and I just totally lost control and bust my nut right then and there, more than I ever had before, making a fucking puddle on the floor with his cock still jerking and spitting in my face."

My own cock's like a red-hot iron pressed against my thigh now. I try to press it down flatter with my crossed leg, but that just squeezes my cockhead and forces out a hot wet drop of precum that makes a dark patch on my slacks.

"Seriously, mate. I can see you're in a bit of a billabong. Just do what you've gotta do, mate. You can even let it out. No harm in it, right?"

The thought makes my head spin. "But-but-."

"There's no rule that says two Blokes can't show their dongers to each other?"

"I suppose not—"

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Then he adds this grin—a grin that feels like the word "yet" tacked on the end of that sentence, but I can't let myself think that.

"Whatever. That's up to you. And anyways, I'm getting to the important part. 'Cause the thing I don't get is how fucking good his cum tasted. That salty bitter taste... I swallowed it all. And I mean, I'd tried tasting my own cum once and I didn't like it. But this—I'd never tasted anything like that before. I can't get it out of my head. Right after I went home I put my legs up on the bed, pointed my dick at my mouth and started pounding away at my cock, thinking about that massive leaking snake of his, the cum dripping down my throat and over my pecs, jerking harder and harder until my cock shot right into my mouth, onto my chin, but it just wasn't the same."

Fuck! Don't put that image in my head! This isn't helping here! The dark stain of precum's spreading wider over my rock-hard cockhead. The fabric of my pants is so tight it's making me tingle, making me twitch.

"And I've tried to recreate it. No guy can compare. I get them hot and ready and I'm waiting for it, give it to me, give it to me, waiting for that cum—and then there's barely just a few shots. I can't stop thinking about it. I've tried to think of ways to find him of course, but I can't think of anything. Fuck! If I saw him on the street I'd probably just drop to my knees and suck him off right then and there."

He glances down at the bulge in my pants, then we make eye contact like an electric beam that wrenches my internal organs. Suddenly, this sly note creeps into his voice. "So I've been asking around, and I had a chat with an old lady on the fifth floor and she said that if I want to fuck somebody. I should just go for it."

"J-Jett, I..." barely believing it. He fucking planned this. That bloke knew what he was doing. "I don't think I—" He put a finger to my lips.

"I know you want me, Arthur. You don't think I notice you look at me or bump into me? We Aussies aren't as dumb as we look, you know." he said

I suddenly realize my mouth is hanging open but words are failing to come out. "I feel like this is one of those hostage situations. Blink once for yes, twice for no," he laughs. "But seriously, I'm being honest here. This is what I want. Is this what you want?"

I manage to gasp out, "More than anything."

"Well alright then. Let's do this, mate."

I barely manage to stand, my knees quivering like I've just climbed twenty flights of stairs, my heart pounding, and he steps in real close so I feel his body heat, his breath on my mouth; and then his strong hands are undoing my belt, my zipper. I strip off my shirt with fumbling fingers (there's certainly no rule against that) while his hands slide my pants down over my ass, lets me step out of them and yank off my socks so I'm there in just my boxers with my giant erection leaking through the material. At least until he strips them off too and then he takes in the sight of my swollen, curved-up sweaty veiny giant cock begging for a hand, for a mouth. I can feel his gaze blazing on my quivering, straining organ, on the glistening bead of precum building up in my cumslit.

"Now that is a fucking fantastic cock," he says. "But first things first, I'm feelin' overdressed here." And he grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulls upwards. I'm watching that fabric slide up, revealing veins scored across his rock-hard lower abs, between V-lines sharp enough that you could fuck them—then the skin vacuum-packed tight to the wide blocks of his perfectly-sculpted abdominals, row after row of them beneath broad pecs that ripple as his arms go higher over his head, his lats flaring out; and then his shirt's off and he balls it up, the massive peaks of his veiny biceps thrusting against his skin before he tosses it to the floor. "You like what you see?" he grins, flexing his pecs, making them bounce and bunch massively.

"You're amazing. You're fucking amazing! You fucking wanker stud!" I gasp out. The sensation of being in the presence of so much hard manly flesh is practically tactile on my tongue. "I've never seen muscles like that."

"Yeah? Thanks. Maybe you want to see this too." And he turns around, lets me see dozens of muscles bunching across his back as he brings his hands to the waistband of his sweatpants. The firm curves of his ass push against the stretchy grey material for just a second before he tugs down, exposing the most perfect bulbous butt I've ever seen, the muscles flexing and wobbling as he steps out of his pants, his light brown skin adding extra definition to the perky swells of his asscheeks. An ass that begs for a cock, threatens to squeeze every last drop of cum out of you. And it's already squeezing a fat strand of precum out of my tip, a long sticky strand that's dripping off my cock.

He turns to face me so I finally get a full view of his rock-hard member. He's got a thick battering ram, a real bull of a cock. At least twelve and a half inches and THICK, with balls like eggs from the extra-large section. He packs his fist around the powerful base of his willy, squeezes it and slides down so his brawny shaft gets red and veined, so his cockhead swells, his cumslit stretches. Watching him, my own cock's on fire, standing up higher than I've ever seen it, pointing up at that Australian stud's face, so tight it's almost like it's being squeezed in a giant hand—but it's that maddening unfulfilling ache which is really just the sense of impending pleasure. The built-up pressure that demands stimulation so it can transform into stomach-clenching shockwaves that drain your balls and rip the spunk out of your cumslit.

He's studying my cock, still squeezing idly along the length of his own shaft. "That must've been fucking painful, keeping that thing in your pants," he says, a grin of delight on his handsome face. "You look like you're just about to have a Blowie, mate. I'd better do something about that."

And in moments I'm filled with the heart-pounding tension of having a man on his knees in front of my cock, feeling the nearness of his mouth like heat. Nothing can describe the fluttering tension of being in that position, my knees quivering and my cock buzzing with pounding blood, my balls clamped up tight against my body like they expect me to cum any second. And that fucking hunk from Down Under is kneeling there, wryly smirking at my desperate cock, massive forearms crossed in front of his chest, making those pecs push out and form a deep rippled cleft that I'd give anything to plunge my cock down, his own erect dick practically between my legs.

"Where to begin?" He studies my throbbing organ. That wobbling translucent string of precum is practically down to my knees. "Well, I guess I can't have you getting that on the carpet," he says, and he bends low, opens his mouth and starts rising up so the strand of precum lands right in the middle of his tongue, coming up toward my cock, tasting my precum—Fuck, that sight makes a fresh glob squeeze out of my stretched-tight cumslit and land in his mouth. He comes closer, closer—Fuck, please!—closer and then—no, fuck, just fucking shove it in your mouth!—he stops just short, closes his lips so they barely graze my cumslit, driving a bolt of maddening pleasure right down my cock, making it pulse as he winks at me, draws away, watches my unbearable need swell out my dick, curved up harder than it's ever been.

"Now that's a greedy fucking donger," watching me twitch, watching me drip. "Succulent." One hand still casually stroking his own dick. "How'd you ever keep your hands off it?" Before I'm ready for it, suddenly he reaches up with his free hand and now his iron grip is around the base of my cock, feeling the strength of my need, letting it fill his strong rough fingers. And I can sense how solid and massive I am in his hand. My dick muscles twitch; my tip flicks up; precum dribbles out.

"You like that, huh? Bet you wish I'd jerk you right off, let you blow a fat wad right in my face, huh? Right in my mouth. Yeah, that's what this cock wants to do. You're fucking leaking all over the place. I've never seen such a juicy cock." Another translucent strand dangling down, swaying as my stiff cock tightens again in his grip. Please please move those fucking fingers, pound that fist up and down my cock so I can blow a fucking load while screaming my head off.

But he doesn't. That sly grin twisting up his mouth, he lets go of my cock and teases my tight ballsack. Rubs them through the skin drawn tight to my body. They're full of that dull, heavy ache that means I'm desperate to cum. "Those fuckin' balls are churning, huh mate? Feel that hot load in there. I can practically smell it. Smell all the cum built up in that nutsack. But you're too tight. Maybe this'll loosen things up." And he swipes up the precum dangling off my cock, barely touching my desperate cumslit with his finger, feels the tacky stickiness between his fingers, then massages it into my tense, close-to-my-body balls as I groan, as bolts of unsatisfied pleasure roil deep in my gut, as my cock strains and twitches, spits out another gob of precum, my cockhead deep purple and stretched tight.

"Yeah, that's better," massaging my heavy balls while my cock jerks in his smirking face. "I'm real curious how much cum you've got pent up in there. Maybe I'll find out if I do this." And he leans forward and just barely grazes the tip of my cock with his smirking lips—fuck! I smear my precum over him, tense and tightening, that slight pressure blazing as I groan and shivers shoot through my body, my toes curling, nipples erect, hair standing up on my arms.

"Yeah, that's a greedy donger. Never seen one so close to bursting," his lips flicking against my cockhead so it's about to explode from the pressure. "How big's that fucking cock? Want me to measure with my mouth?" And he slides my cockhead between his fucking lips. The friction on my stretched-to-bursting hypersensitive glans making me gasp and sending jolts of electricity down my shaft, over my balls, racing down to my staggering feet as he measures the size of my cockhead with his lips, pops it in, like a dripping plum resting on his tongue. He grins around my cock, tastes my liquid as the pressure builds—fuck, my cock's so hard and tight, I've gotta cum so fucking bad—then takes his mouth away.

"That's a nice donger, mate." I moan as he pushes me back into his hot wet mouth, his lips gliding over my dripping cockhead. I'm watching his manly face scrunch up with concentration as I slide in deep. And he's still working his big cock, enjoying the feeling of it in his hand as he tastes my dick. He grins around my willy stretching his lips and from that expression I can tell that THIS is a man who appreciates a cock, a man who likes nothing better than a rock-hard rod of meat in his mouth, wants to lick and suck at that cockhead till it sprays cum all over his face and down his throat before he licks it clean.

My cock's pulsing in his mouth, sliding over the slippery wet muscle of his tongue. "Fuck, ah, that feels so fucking ripper," I groan. "Suck my dick, yeah, suck that donger! Oh fuck, you're gonna make me—" For a moment I think I'm about to lose it; he holds my dick still on his tongue, feels the hot tension building—but I manage to hold on somehow, my balls aching more fiercely than ever, sweat dripping down my chest and ass. Then that heat and tightness comes screaming back as he starts rubbing my cock against the inside of his cheek, the friction against my cumslit making me squirm. It feels so fucking good, my entire cock is one hard-as-rock muscle clamped tight in his hot mouth. The pressure's building and building, I can feel the wave surging up inside me—

He looks up at me and winks, then starts bobbing his head up and down on my cock. I'm pushing right to the back of his throat, my entire organ one flexing hot hard muscle getting tighter and tighter and my balls squeezed up under my cock, "Fuck I'm gonna, I'm gonna fucking—" and he just sucks me harder, I'm freely fucking that hot wet mouth and my cock's on fire, a muscle flexing harder and harder and the cum building in my dick, getting ready to shoot, getting ready to fucking EXPLODE-

"FUCK! Oh fuck YES! YES!" He grabs my ass and thrusts me deep into his mouth until my cock squeezes hard and I burst, the cum flying out of my dick in pounding hot waves and filling his mouth as he groans and sucks, my cock squeezing out shot after shot of hot white cum, drowning his tongue until his mouth is full and he pulls out my dick, aims it at his face while cum leaks out between his lips; I moan and jerk again and again and I spray his nose and mouth with my spunk, angle down and paint his massive chest as he grabs his nipples and tweaks them, revelling in the hot wet splashes of cum rolling over his massively muscled chest and down to his abs. His Adam's apple bobs on a tide of muscle as he swallows my load and then his greedy mouth is sucking at my dick again, draining every last drop until the final few hard wrenches rumble through it.

"I knew it. You taste so good," he says, kissing my cock and then sucking it into his mouth again. "You're everything I needed." His hot wet mouth still feels so good. My cock belongs there, and he doesn't want to stop tasting it even as it loses some of its rigidity. He's savoring the taste, the feeling, jerking off his own straining dick. But there's no way I'm going to make him do that by himself. Fuck the rules. I want to make him feel good, make him cum so fucking hard he'll be back again day after day, with his rock-hard dick in his hand.

So I gently push him back. "Let me do that for you." And he doesn't question it. He takes his hand off his cock and leans back. I crouch down, mash my mouth against his, taste his cummed-up tongue, the salty sweetness of his mouth. I push him till he's lying flat and I'm on all fours over him, his pleading erection prodding me in the balls; and I lean over, lick up the gluey cum clinging to his cheeks. I'm about to work my way further south but then I say, "I want to feel you on top of me. Feel those muscles pressing into me."

So he rolls on top of me, and now he's holding himself over me in a plank position, bracing himself with those massive trunk-like arms. It makes his swollen round pecs balloon like watermelons, so I start with them, feel their smooth round hardness flexing against my face as I lap up the jizz I sprayed there. And then I'm sliding down further, like a mechanic going under a truck, those ripped as fuck abs are flexing against my face while he breathes, runnels of sweat and cum moistening up their deep trenches, filling his navel; my hands are sliding over his obliques then down to that round firm ass, which swells under my fingers as I lick and kiss his veiny, hard lower abs and smell the sweaty manly musk of his straining cock, that thick powerful dick thrusting against my cheek as I nuzzle its base, wound up tight with his desire.

He pushes himself up higher so his cockhead is right against my lips. I'm lying under this Australian god with his flexing ass thrusting his cock right towards my face, feeling the heat of his powerfully bulging muscles as they easily support him, running my hands now over the insanely broad corded muscles of his sweaty thighs.

And then I taste that fucking fantastic cock, savour the moisture of his straining cumslit, the rubbery hardness of his glans pushing between my lips. "Fuck, yeah, suck that cock," his voice guttural, thick with lust above me; he can't help thrusting his hips down, making me take more of that straining bull of a cock, and I eagerly taste it all, taking him deeper, sucking him harder, feeling the coiled need wound tight in that burning hot dick, in the tension vibrating through his thighs, through his ass; and he starts thrusting into me, letting me feel his entire length. By this time I'm so turned on that my own cock's feeling like I didn't even cum earlier, like I've been storing up my sperm for weeks, but I can't bear to take a hand away from the flexing muscles of his ass to start stroking off my swollen organ.

And now he's fucking my mouth faster, pressing my head into the carpet with the force of his thrusts. "Yeah, take it, take that fucking cock, that feels so good, make me cum, make my cock fucking explode—" his hot muscled dick thrusting deeper into my throat, making my mouth fill with saliva, making me moan.

When I look up, row after row of sweaty bulging abs is flexing above me, and his pecs are ballooning out obscenely above them, nipples erect, muscles striated, sweat dripping onto my face, those biceps bursting out in veiny rippling swells as he pounds his massive muscled body closer and closer to the brink, pounding away at my greedy mouth, faster and faster and his muscles are everywhere around me, sweaty and flexing and swelling tighter tighter, pumping up bigger and stronger and harder, hot and wet and "Fuck!" and "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum! Gonna make me fucking cum—oh fuck yes!"

He strains upward, entire body clenched, gripped in that rising tension before the floodgates burst and I pull my mouth off that seized-up cock, rest my lips against his tip and lick it till his entire dick jerks hard in my face, sends semen flooding out onto my lips, thick and briny on my tongue, his entire massive muscled organ bucking so hard and his brawny body shaking all around me, the overwhelming force of his massive muscles pounding out his cum all over my face—"Fuck yes, more more, give me more," I moan, letting his last shots of cum land on my tongue and then—"Fuck, I've gotta blow my fucking load!"

I feel it getting ready in my eager cock. I slide out from under him; he collapses on the floor, turns over so he's lying on his back and I'm kneeling beside him, pumping my cock furiously and his eyes are shining, his mouth is grinning—"Give it to me, give it to me, oh yeah give it to me," he coaxes, and the eager delight in his voice, his excitement wring jets of hot cream out of my cock; he moans as I spurt my seed all over his face, his chest, his abs, shot after shot that connects with his drum-tight skin with an audible splat till my balls are drained and I collapse next to him, watching him slide his hand over his massive chest, collect my warm wet seed, and then suck it down.

We lie on the floor, exhausted and covered in cum and sweat, the room thick with the smell of our lust, and I kiss him again, taste the tang of my spunk in his mouth. When our lips finally part, he chuckles. "So how was I, mate?"

"FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE! MUCH BETTER THAN THE BOYS BACK IN BRITAIN!" I told him.

"I thought so." he said. We laid on the bed and he wrapped his muscular arms around me. I think the rest of this vacation will go along fine.

 **THE END.**


End file.
